Regarding the End
by babybluecas
Summary: 1509 spoilers. Sam got a glance at the future that won't come to pass. There's something about it that doesn't sit well with Dean.


"So what was it?" Dean asks once they're left alone in the kitchen, just him and Sam, and the unbearable silence. "Tell me there were some cool explosions or a hail of bullets."

Dean even forces a smirk, but Sam only shakes his head, without sparing him a glance.

Of course, there were no action movie scenes. Going out with a bang—that's always been the plan. It wouldn't paint Sam's face and heart with a hopelessness so profound the guy's barely standing. What the hell did Chuck show him that fucked him up so badly?

"Alright?" Dean's still waiting for the answer.

Sam takes his time, finding the right words.

"We walked into a vamp nest," he says, at last, face blank when he looks Dean dead in the eye. "And we got turned."

It's a punch to the gut Dean didn't expect. Sure, it happens to hunters—hell, it happened to him. And that's why, isn't it? Why, for a brief moment, it gets so hard to breathe. It was one night, for him, of that endless hunger that nearly consumed his senses. Of that struggle for control that he was so close to losing.

It's a crappy end with a one-way ticket to eternity in the monster land—the place that after today, after learning that Benny is no longer there, seems more hostile and hopeless than it's ever been.

Still, there are alternatives worse than that.

"Well, that sucks," Dean says, managing to keep his voice even. "But still kinda counts as going down swinging, right? Could be worse."

"Oh, yeah, we went down swinging," Sam says, mockery forming on his lips. "Butch and Sundance and all."

There's something Sam's holding back, something so much worse than that. But Dean's a big boy, he can take it.

"Come on, Sammy. What is it?"

"The hunters came for us. Bobby was the one who chopped my head off." Sam takes a deep breath, lets it out. "Right after you sucked Jody dry."

Dean blinks. He must have heard something wrong. Because Sam's story? It doesn't add up. The vamp part Dean gets but—

"We—we started murdering people? Our friends, too?"

The look Sam gives him is so broken, he doesn't have to say a word.

"That's some fucking bullshit," Dean snaps, louder than he planned, but he doesn't care. "I get turned, I'd be the first to put my head on the chopping block and you would too."

There's anger building up in his chest but he's not sure whether at Chuck for coming up with this nonsense or at Sam for believing it. But he can't doubt Sam. Not now. Not when they gave up their only chance at beating Chuck based on it.

"I know," Sam says, "it—it didn't make sense but, Dean, the whole world went to shit. Maybe something more was going on. Maybe it was stronger than us."

"Stronger than _who we are_?"

It's painful to think that all that they've been through, all that they've done their whole lives would go to waste. It's straight-up offensive to insinuate that he and Sam could turn into monsters, _real monsters_, just 'cause of some bad blood, 'cause of fangs and hunger.

Every fiber of Dean's being riots against that idea.

But Sam seems too resigned to riot. He drops his eyes to his palms and says, barely above his breath, "It's not like we haven't hurt people before."

The demon blood, the Mark of Cain. Yeah, they hurt people. But this just seemed like, too much of a child's play to change them so fundamentally.

But then, Dean wasn't there, he didn't see what Sam saw. He can only guess what wild beasts they became, primal, animalistic. Were they more like those starved vamps in Bobby's world, no longer remembering what it was like to be human?

"You think I made the wrong choice?" Sam asks, quietly, fear in his eyes while he waits for Dean's answer.

"No, Sam." Dean buries his face in his hands. He told Sam his belief was enough for him. He can't debate that now. Spilled milk and all that. "I'm just—having a hard time wrapping my head around this, I mean, how long since—" He shakes his head. It's never been real, has it? Everything they've learned, assimilated monsters, Lenore, Garth. Benny. Those were Chuck's rules all along. "Well," Dean says, getting up from the table, his voice as comforting as he can muster, "doesn't matter."

"Because it won't happen," Sam says, looking up at Dean. "And 'cause we're gonna get him some other way, right?"

"Yeah, Sammy." Dean lands his hand on Sam's shoulder. There's only one thing he can say, doesn't matter if he believes it, if any one of them does. "We're gonna find a way. We always do."


End file.
